


Into The Wildwood

by eyelash_curler



Category: Star Stable, Starshine Legacy (Video Games)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst, But Still The Good Guys, Canon Divergence, Christian Bashing Because I'm Pagan, Dialogue Heavy, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Loretta Is Mean Again, Maya Dew Is The Most Perfect Human Being Ever And I Love Her, Multi, Other, The Keepers of Aideen Are Bad People™️, Unrequited Love, dialogue changes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29328423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyelash_curler/pseuds/eyelash_curler
Summary: Over time, we may learn that what we once knew was not true. That what we were told was false, warped to fit a certain narrative. For some, this is hard to overcome. But for others, for those special few who look at those false stories and they tell them; "You're not true. You rule over me no longer. I have learned the truth and you can't hurt me." Those people who are so full of light they spare no thought at helping the darkness, it will be those people who save us in the end.https://into-the-wildwood.tumblr.com/post/642260951267229696/sso-rewritten
Relationships: Alex Cloudmill/Maya Dew, Alonso (Star Stable)/Original Character(s), Alonso (Star Stable)/Original Female Character(s), Anne Von Blyssen/Derek (Star Stable), Galloper Thompson/Original Female Character(s), Loretta/Justin Moorland, Original Character(s)/Original Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Into The Wildwood

The small island of Jorvik was more full of life than I thought anything could ever be. After spending the first 18 years of my life mainly in New York City the only glimpses of nature to this scale I got was when I had the chance to go upstate. Luckily I had found other nature-lovers in a city where they are so rare, my best friend Meera Shäfer and my boyfriend Oliver Reed. Well, ex-boyfriend now. The two of us started dating when we were 12 after Meera helped me ask him out. He was the best boyfriend anyone could ever ask for, but with him staying in New York to go to NYU and me flying to far off Jorvik to work and study left me feeling like he should have a girlfriend closer to him.

From my place in the air I can almost spot Jorvik City, the place where we’re landing. And the only airplane strip on Jorvik that isn’t privately owned. The whole island was a lush green, the mountains so tall they looked like I could reach out and touch them. Far off in the distance I could see Eastern Jorvik, it looked like it has gone untouched by human hands for centuries. When people say that from an airplane trees look like little ants, they’ve certainly never seen Jorvik. I could see the larger forests of Mistfall with ease, the trees looking like each one was at least a century old. So entranced with Jorvik’s nature I didn’t hear that the plane was landing. The old man sat next to me spoke up, “Excuse me, but would you be so kind as to help me carry my bags? I’m afraid my back must’ve gotten worse during this long flight.” 

“Of course Sir. I’m sure you must be very tired, a 14 hour flight is quite long for someone like you.” I replied, getting up from my seat after the old man had done so. “I don’t mean to offend, it’s just that this flight was tiring for me, I can’t imagine how it must be for you.”

“Oh it’s alright. You know I was born here, on Jorvik.”

“Really? It must be exciting for you to return here then. Which part of Jorvik did you grow up in?”

“Oh child, I assume this is your first time here on Jorvik so let me tell you this. If you ask a Jorvegian in which part of Jorvik did he grow up , all he will say is that he grew up in Jorvik. You can put names on each little cluster of people, or you can section out the island, but at the end of the day; This is the sacred land of Aideen and we should do our duty and remain as one people. If we remain all as Jorvegians first and foremost the better we can defend ourselves from the outside. How do you think our ancestors managed to resist the Christianization of the world girl?”

I hardly knew how to process his words. “Brooke. My name is Brooke.”

“Well then it’s been a pleasure to meet you Brooke. Now help me carry this wretched bag.”

“Right! Sorry.” I said as I lifted the bag’s strap over my shoulder. The plane was a bit crowded on our way out but we managed to make it to the baggage claim where the rest of our luggage was. As we walked throughout the airport I could hear DJ Kai’s newest song blaring on the overhead speakers. 

Stopping before the main exit I asked the old man, who had still not given me his name by the way, “Where are you going Sir?”

“Meadow Village. My family owns a farm there.” He said blandly.

“Oh that’s in the Northfields!”

“Yes, yes it is…” He trailed off.

My mind wanders as I follow the old man to the taxi pickup. As we walk I can see families hurriedly pushing strollers trying to make a flight, a lone newlywed couple about to go on their honeymoon, a group of teenage girls in riding outfits, and a family of tourists that are… holding their map upside down. “I’m going to go help them. Wait right here.” I said, turning to the old man who just sighed in response.

“Excuse me, you— you’re holding your map upside down.” I reached out to turn over their map but stopped half way.

“Hallo! Was— was machen Sie?” The father said.

“I’m sorry— I don’t— I don’t speak German. But your map,” I pointed to his map, trying my best to gesture what I was trying to do. “Is upside down.”

His daughter spoke up, “Sie spricht Englisch Papa. Sie sagt etwas über Ihre Karte.”

“Here, um let me get my friend on the phone. Maybe she can help translate.” I pulled my phone from my pocket and scrolled through my contacts until I came to one that read ‘moon of my life’ and clicked the call button. “Moon of my life!” I said giggling.

A voice came through on the phone. “My sun and stars! You made it!”

“Yes! I did thank you!”

“So what did you call me for?” Meera said.

“I wanted to know if you could translate some German for me. I’m trying to help this family but they hardly speak English.” I said.

“Yeah totally, hit me.”

“Could you translate ‘Sir your map is upside down, I was trying to help you turn it over.’ for me?” I held out the phone so Meera could talk to the man in front of me.

“Mein Freund wollte sagen, dass Ihre Karte auf dem Kopf steht. Sie hat versucht, dir zu helfen, es umzudrehen.”

“Ah! Danke junge Dame! Und danke an deinen Freund am Telefon, der dir geholfen hat.” The man said as he smiled at me and turned over his map. I brought the phone back to me as Meera started to translate what he said.

“He says thank you, and he also thanked me for helping.”

“Oh how sweet of him!” 

It was only once Meera and I had said our goodbyes and I hung up the phone that the woman next to him, his wife I presume, spoke up. “You are a very resourceful young girl.” She said in a very thick German accent. 

“You speak English?” I said, surprised by this sudden knowledge.

“Yes, only a um—” She made a gesture with her fingers symbolizing of a small size.

“Little?”

“Yes that, only a little bit. My husband doesn’t speak any at all.” She said, correcting herself.

“Well thank you, I’m Brooke. It’s been nice meeting you.”

“Thank you for helping us, my husband can be quite… ungeschickt.” That was one of the few German words I understood. Meera would always call me ungeschickt when I tripped over something on our hikes. It meant that I was clumsy. We both laughed.

“My name is Helga. This is my husband Gunther, and our daughter Gretchen.” She says, waving to each person as she says their name. She points behind me, waving to someone. I turn to see the old man staring at us. He’s still in the same place I left him. Walking quickly back to him I say,

“Sorry I was gone so long they didn’t speak any English.”

“It’s alright.” He continued walking and I picked up the large bag he was having me carry.

By now we had arrived at the taxi pickup. Waving off the driver I helped him lift his suitcase and bag into the trunk. “Will this car take you all the way to Meadow Village?” I asked.

“No. It won’t.” He said. I opened the door to the back seat and he got in. Just before I closed the taxi door I said to him,

“You— you still haven’t given me your name.”

“You don’t need it. Not for a long time anyways. If Aideen wills it we shall meet again.”

The car door shut and it drove off. Knowing full well that he could not hear me I yelled “Well I will it!” Rocking back on my heels I watched as the car drove off.

~ ~ ~

As I walked to the bus pickup on the other side of the airport I couldn’t stop thinking about the old man from Meadow Village. He was probably almost out of the city by now and getting into a carriage. When I arrived at the bus pickup location I noticed the bus I was set to get on, the one that went southwest through Mistfall, had a long line in front of it. “What’s going on?” I asked the person in front of me as I stepped into line.

“Uh We um— we all have to put on masks and gloves before we get on the bus. Misfall is under some sort of quarantine so in order to pass through we have to take precautions. It’s strange I know, but better safe than sorry right?” He replied. I got on my tiptoes to try and get a better look. It looked like there were about 20 people in line, some already inside. There was a woman in a white coat and blue gloves handing everyone both a surgical mask and a pair of gloves before they went on the bus. I turned my attention to the man in front of me, he had a somewhat scruffy looking brunet beard and hair. He wore rectangle glasses and jeans that made him look like an overdue college student. He looked about 30 years of age. He wasn’t handsome but he wasn’t particularly ugly either.

“Are you a student here at UOJ?” I asked. “I’m hoping to study there myself.”

“Oh no, no I’m not. I do work there but I’m not a student.”

“Oh! Sorry, my mistake. What do you do there?”

“I’m a researcher. I’m an archeologist.”

“Oh how cool! I’m Brooke by the way.” I said reaching out to shake his hand.

“I’m David. Nice to meet you.”

By the time our small talk had come to a close the line had all but got on the bus. When it was finally my turn to get on the bus I found David seated on a bench in the middle section. It was odd seeing all these people in gloves and masks on what to any normal person looked like public transit. It seemed strange to me that we had to wear all this gear  _ inside _ the bus. It’s not like we were getting out. As we rode through the mountain pass the lights of the tunnel turned on slowly around us. I had always found it exciting when they did that. To see the tunnel lighting up as you went through it. When I was little I had thought they were lighting up specifically for me.

As we drove through Mistfall I noticed that the people didn’t  _ seem _ sick. Maybe it’s asymptomatic? The fences and blocked off areas of Mistfall were the things that raised my suspicion the most. They weren’t anywhere near the town; most of them out in the middle of the forest. Something isn’t right here.

The trees of Mistfall weren’t the large ones I had seen from the plane but they weren’t any kind of tree I had seen before. They bared a resemblance to pine trees but the colors were too bright. I’ve heard people say that you haven’t seen color ‘till you’ve seen Jorvik… but I would have never thought they would be right. Everything seemed to be not only more colorful here, but also more alive. For something so close to a road there were more wild animals I had seen in a long time. The plants seemed to communicate with one another, whispering to their neighbor and trading gossip as they go. If you listened hard enough you could hear them whisper prophecies.

_ “She’s here.” _

_ “It’s time.” _

_ “Tell the others.” _

_ “Aideen…” _

Although I could hear them, by the faces of the other people with me on the bus I could tell they didn’t have that skill of listening. Their thoughts were too loud to truly hear anything. The bus was coming up on a gate that led out of Mistfall. The gate happened to be inside a tunnel, shouldn’t there be a gate on top of the tunnel as well? That would make more sense than just down here. The guide told us that we had now left Mistfall Valley and were entering a land called Firgrove. Places in Jorvik always have such pretty names. My destination was Moorland, a small stable owned by a one Thomas Moorland. As the bus slowed to a stop I watched as the first person got off at an eastbound trail.

It felt like only a few minutes until we arrived at Moorland. Some people had taken off their masks now and were holding them in their hands as they all waited in silence. David had kept both his mask and gloves on the whole ride.

Stepping out of that large bus was like a breath of fresh air. I stood in front of the gates to Moorland Stables with 5 other girls. My being the only one from the tour bus I got off of; the others had arrived shortly before I did. Most of them looked about 15 or 16. The youngest looked to be closer to 14 in age. I set my duffle bag down next to my right foot as I continued to stare at the sign. I finally felt like I belonged here. On Jorvik.


End file.
